Reluctant Rebel
by Stranger Kind of Dream
Summary: "Why am I here?" Effie asked quietly. "I never asked to be brought here and everyone knows it." "What?" Haymitch demanded. "I don't belong here," she clarified. One-shot set during Mockingjay that explores Effie's feelings about District 13 and being dragged into the rebellion. Also, seeing as they're at Finnick and Annie's wedding, I figured there'd be some slow dancing :)


**Hey guys. So, after seeing how sad Effie looked in her D13 promo picture, I decided it will obviously fall to Haymitch to make sure she is okay throughout Mockingjay. Also, I wanted some Hayffie dancing, so here it is!**

**Enjoy x**

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She stood alone at the edge of the room, unusually reluctant to join in the festivities of the ongoing party. Well, if you could call it a party. Effie's kind of parties were usually a little more extravagant, but nonetheless she had been trying to enjoy herself. Everyone around her looked so happy at finally being able to celebrate some good news. And what was more joyous than a wedding?

She took in the newlyweds swaying gently together, a few other people joining them where they spun to the slow music. Finnick and Annie really were a beautiful couple.

"Bored sweetheart?"

Effie turned upon hearing the familiarly gruff voice and found Haymitch standing before her. She thought it strange to see him without a drink in his hand. "I know this isn't exactly your idea of a party," he continued, smirking.

She smiled at this, somewhat enjoying his sarcasm. The light banter they used to exchange so often had recently become something of a rarity, and laughter didn't seem to be very common in District 13. Well, definitely not for her anyway.

"It's lovely," she replied honestly, her eyes returning to the scene before her. "Charming... Even if it is rather quaint. They do look happy,"

"Mmm," Haymitch hummed in agreement, "they deserve it,"

He joined her where she stood and leaned against the wall, but it was only when his shoulder touched hers that she seemed to jolt back to reality. She brought her eyes back to him and cleared her throat.

"Where have you been?"

"With Katniss. Once she saw the cake… well I had to tell her everything about Peeta. She agreed to see him,"

"Really?" Effie gasped, unable to conceal her surprise. "So they talked? Face to face?"

"I guess, a little,"

"How did it go?"

"Alright compared to last time, although nothing like before," Haymitch admitted wearily, making sure Effie didn't get her hopes up too high. "He's lot better but it's hard to tell what he thinks of her. It's gonna be rough on both of them,"

"I'm sure," Effie replied despondently. Despite being told many times that Peeta's full recovery may be a lost cause, she still couldn't quite accept that he may be irrevocably and irreversibly programmed to hate Katniss, the girl he once loved so much. It was painful to think about, let alone watch.

"We'll keep trying," Haymitch assured her, "but not tonight. Katniss walked out pretty quickly so I thought I'd come back," he added nonchalantly.

"And now you're checking up on me?" Effie asked slyly, side-eyeing him. They both laughed a little at such a ridiculous notion.

"I know, usually it's the other way around," he admitted, fixing his unflinching gaze on her. He raised an eyebrow slightly, as if daring her to comment on his lack of denial.

"Well I'm fine, thank you Haymitch," she replied, deciding to humour him.

"Me too sweetheart," he said sarcastically, seeing straight through her propriety. She pointedly looked away, fiddling with one of the bracelets on her arm. He stood there silently, knowing that trying to drag her thoughts out of her would only make her fight him more. He took this opportunity to study her, taking in the sag of her shoulders and the way she kept her hands clasped tightly together to stop them shaking. She had claimed her modified uniform was her way of keeping up appearances, but he knew it ran deeper than that - she needed what little she had left of her façade.

"Why am I here?" She finally asked quietly. He frowned at her, waiting for more of an explanation. "I'm not a rebel or a soldier or... Anything..." Her voice was small - sad - and her eyes remained straight ahead. "I don't belong here,"

"None of us belong here sweetheart,"

"But me especially," she continued, "I'm Capitol. You're fighting the very place that raised me. I never asked to be brought here and everyone knows it."

"Well what the hell was I supposed to do?" He snapped, growing irritated by her words. _Who gives a damn what the people here think? At least you're alive_, he thought. He could feel his rage growing, hot and fierce in his chest. So many people were dead already. Too many. "In case you haven't noticed princess, there's a war going on," he continued heatedly, turning to face her. "People are dying. If you'd stayed, you'd be dead for sure."

She recoiled slightly at his words, mildly shocked by his bluntness.

"I know but would that be such a bad thing?" She finally replied in a small voice.

It had taken her many months to come to terms with the simple fact that nobody in District 13 really wanted her around - that she was more of a hindrance than an asset. The way the people spoke of her… it was as if she was a liability.

"What?" Haymitch demanded.

"Nobody wants me here - it's not like I can help the rebellion," she stated matter-of-factly, although she couldn't quite bring herself to meet his gaze.

He wanted to shake her. "Don't be stupid woman," he growled, settling for gripping her upper arms.

"I'm not," she snapped back defiantly.

"You are. You're here because I brought you and that should be reason enough,"

She pushed his hands off her, determined not to let her tears get the better of her. "They don't want me though Haymitch, President Coin made that perfectly clear already,"

He winced slightly at the reminder. The image ripped through him, and he knew that, like many other horrors in his past, he would never forget it. He could see it in his mind as clear as day, Effie shackled to the wall, locked up with the preps over some inconsequential altercation about food hoarding. Unfortunately he didn't have any alcohol to help him drown this particular memory.

"Coin will never do anything like that to you again if she knows what's good for her," he snarled, "and I don't care what the others say, you would not be here if you weren't needed. Just forget about them,"

She felt momentarily touched by the promise of protection lying under his ferocity, but remained firm on her point. "That's easy for you to say, you've never cared what anyone's thought about you,"

"Well you shouldn't care either,"

She sighed. He didn't understand, would never understand what it was like to fake everything one was for someone else's game, because he'd never played the games on anyone's terms but his own. Even when it meant he lost everything. But she couldn't do that, and so her entire life had been determined by other people judging her. How could she stop thinking like that now?

"I'm only human," she whispered.

"And so am I," he said surprisingly gently. "We're both messed up pretty good but you know what sweetheart? We're still alive and fighting." He took her hand cautiously. "Still a team. That's gotta count for something,"

She looked up at him, blue eyes meeting grey. His eyes, bloodshot and heavy lidded, told of a lifetime of pain. Both alcohol addiction and withdrawal… murder, torture, isolation. The list went on and on. He was right. All four of them had been through their own personal versions of hell, but they were still together… in a manner of speaking.

"It does," she finally admitted, "I suppose you're right,"

A familiar smirk crept onto his lips. "I'll confess princess, never thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth,"

Effie rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her as she wiped away the tears that had finally managed to spill over. "Must be this place driving me crazy," she countered easily.

"Maybe," he said, smiling slightly, "although I can't imagine how I'd tell,"

She smacked him lightly on the chest, before allowing herself to smile in return.

"Come on," he said, holding out a hand to her. She frowned at him in confusion, before realising he was seriously offering her a dance.

"Don't be silly Haymitch,"

"I know you want to - you never go to a party without dancing," he added temptingly.

She tried her hardest to adopt a poker face whilst wondering when he had noticed that particular detail. "That is… beside the point. It would be improper,"

"Oh really?" He queried, "In what way?"

She couldn't find an answer. Haymitch wondered idly if he would ever get bored of watching her become tongue-tied over his good-natured teasing. He highly doubted it. "No-one's going to be paying attention to an old mentor and escort,"

"I am not old," she retorted immediately, causing him to grin at her. She scowled back.

"You know what I mean, and would it not be bad manners to refuse such an offer?" He added as a clincher.

She sighed and shook her head, but found herself taking his hand even so - she always had wondered what dancing with Haymitch would be like. Of course she knew he had taken a few lessons years ago - victors always did - but she'd assumed he would not be brilliant. However, Effie actually found herself pleasantly surprised by how capable he was and somewhat enjoyed feeling the gentle pressure of his hand on her waist. Unexpectedly steady.

"Since when does Haymitch Abernathy care about manners anyway?" She asked. They had not moved far from the edge of the room, but had begun their small waltz nonetheless, her makeshift dress billowing out slightly as they twirled.

"I don't," he assured her, his voice little more than a husky murmur in her ear, "but I couldn't face you lecturing me if I didn't at least offer."

"Interesting… that's never usually a factor,"

"Yeah well," his voice dropped yet lower, "I guess your nagging finally got to me sweetheart,"

"About time," she joked. Their bodies moved easily despite never really having danced together. It wasn't especially magical or perfect, but it was also everything.

Effie leaned her head against Haymitch's shoulder and sighed slightly. He automatically pulled her closer, both hands now moving to the small of her back. As they continued to sway to the slow music, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and for a moment, she allowed herself to stop worrying about all the people around them. However, just as quickly, that moment was gone.

She pulled her hand away from his chest sharply, just in time for Haymitch to see her shifting a bracelet back in place on her wrist. He knew part of the reason she wore the jewelry was to conceal the marks from her imprisonment. Using her Capitol fashions as a mask, just like she always had.

"You don't need to do that anymore y'know,"

"I do," she argued immediately. He only sighed. "Everyone already stares at me because, as far as they're concerned, I'm just as bad as President Snow. I'm not going to give them another reason to judge,"

"You're being ridiculous sweetheart," he said softly. "You're different to the rest of them and it doesn't matter what anyone thinks because they only saw one version of you - the Capitol version. You don't have to be that person anymore Eff,"

"But that could be the real me… I don't even know,"

"Well I do," he said, taking her hands back in his. "They might not want you here, but that doesn't matter because you belong with your team… with us,"

"You think so?"

"I know so," he reassured her. He took a breath before continuing, weighing up whether it would be wise to voice his thoughts. Looking at her face, which was still rather unconvinced, he decided to throw caution to the wind. "And… I mean it you know," he added, his voice little more than a whisper.

"Mean what?" She asked, moving closer to him as they resumed their waltz.

"You don't need it,"

She frowned at him, questioning. He cleared his throat self-consciously – _trust her to make me say it out loud._

"You don't need all that stuff on you… to be beautiful," he admitted seriously.

Effie's eyes widened slightly when she realised there was no punchline. Haymitch watched her rather sheepishly, as if waiting to gauge her reaction in case he needed to take the words back. She wouldn't ever ask him to though.

Slowly, carefully, she wrapped her arms around his neck, reaching up to finally press her lips against his.

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**Thoughts? I'm still hanging on to the hope that they'll put a scene like this is one of the Mockingjay movies and obvs we need dancing since we didn't get any in CF!**

**Reviews would be appreciated :) Thanks for reading! xxx**


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